Nemesis
by LucinaBlade
Summary: In a world where heroes and villains clash, can two boys defy the forces holding them apart and find that love is more powerful than any superpower? I don't own Glee or like any of these characters. Silk and Maestro are my creations. That's like it. I also own my laptop. *NOTICE* This story is on hold! I love writing this story, but they're on the back burner for bigger things.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! Am back. Here's a cute new thing for you to love/hate/whatever me for. Enjoy!**

Kurt Hummel's deceptively kind-looking outside hid a surprisingly evil interior. He wasn't a bad person all the time, only during nights when he was performing elegant heists nobody else was able to. His alter ego, Silk, was the most silent and untraceable criminal in Lima, thwarted only by his archnemesis Maestro. Kurt majored in costume design in college, where he met his best friend Blaine Anderson. As dorm mates, they had learned each other's habits so well that it was impractical to not move in together. Blaine was the musical one of their duo, and Kurt relished in evenings spent listening to Blaine sing while he slaved away on new costumes for a production.

Kurt and Blaine knew each other almost completely. One might even think that they had been friends since childhood with how well they had bonded. They knew almost all of the other's secrets, including the fact that they were both gay. It didn't really matter to either one of them. One night it had casually come up in conversation and they had both kind of laughed when they found out. Kurt told Blaine about his current interest, an employee at the local coffee shop (which Blaine had no idea was just a lie to see if he'd get jealous), and Blaine had genuinely smiled.

To the day, they'd been living together happily. They liked the same television shows, snacks, sodas, even toothpaste. It was easy living and they split the rent. Blaine always jokingly asked Kurt where his family got all their money, and Kurt always would joke back with an extravagant answer. The latest line he'd used was "master train producers in a country discovering the perks of international trade". Their friendship was always lighthearted and _easy._

On the night of Kurt's latest heist, he'd been grazed by a bullet during his getaway. He winced at the pain in his shoulder as he opened the door to their apartment, where Blaine was lounging on their sofa watching the news. Kurt smiled.

"Murder cases, huh? Anything interesting?"

Blaine turned to smile at his roommate.

"Not much. Just a couple cops down at First National Bank last week. Makes me glad I didn't follow my secret passion for being a police officer."

Kurt laughed at Blaine's joke.

"You kill me, Blaine. I bought ice cream, since _someone_ decided to finish the last tub I bought."

Blaine looked mock-wounded.

"But Kurt, it was the Bachelor finale. You _know_ that always gets me."

Kurt held up a fresh tub of mint chip ice cream, their mutual favorite.

"God, you're lucky I'm your best friend. No one else would condone your Bachelor-watching habits."

Blaine grinned.

"Grab a spoon for me? I'm suddenly feeling _very_ emotional."

Kurt sighed, but relented and grabbed two spoons.

"I get some too, idiot. It's my paycheck that buys this crap."

Kurt flopped on the couch beside Blaine, ripping the lid off the container of the ice cream. He dug his spoon in, grabbing a huge chunk of it before Blaine could protest. He popped it in his mouth, savoring the characteristic minty flavor he'd loved since childhood.

"Jesus, Kurt. Do you need to eat half the damn ice cream in _one bite?"_

Kurt cackled wickedly.

"Always, but only to deprive my obsessed best friend."

Blaine pretended to wipe away an invisible tear.

"You wound me."

They began to channel surf, only pausing to snatch bites of ice cream.

"It's unfair how good mint chip is."

Kurt looked over at Blaine.

"It really is."

After finding nothing good on television, they simply turned it off. Blaine turned to face Kurt, and his face went from jovial to concerned very quickly.

"Kurt, what happened to your arm?"

Kurt winced, the wound having been forgotten.

"I… I scraped it. On a rough brick today."

Blaine looked skeptical, but didn't ask. He got up off the couch and headed for the bathroom, grabbing their first aid kit.

"Blaine, it's fine. You don't have to keep patching me up."

He looked up at Kurt from where he was cleaning the injury.

"You do it for me all the time. It's only fair."

Kurt sighed, tipping his head back onto the couch.

After a couple minutes, Blaine sat back up.

"There, now it can heal up properly. God forbid you get a scar."

Kurt laughed, draping his arm over his eyes.

"I guess you're right. I am a little OCD about my skin."

Blaine flopped back.

"A _little?_ Kurt, you freaked out last week because you had a spot of chocolate on your face that nobody told you about."

Kurt stiffened.

"It was in plain sight! Everyone was asking if I had a mole I was just covering up."

By that point, Blaine was laughing.

"Ok, forget the chocolate mole. It was funny."

Kurt stood up and stretched, throwing his arms up over his head.

"I'm going to get some shut-eye. Work tomorrow and all."

Blaine glanced at the clock, which read 10:36 pm.

"You're right, I should get some rest too."

Kurt chuckled.

"How would you ever live without me always reminding you such important things?"

Blaine laughed again.

"I have _no_ idea."

Kurt shot a quick smile at his friend.

"Thanks for the patch up, Doctor Anderson."

Blaine returned the smile.

"Any time, Kurt."


	2. Chapter 2

After Kurt trudged away to bed, Blaine walked back to his bedroom. The investigations surrounding the police murders were getting more intense, and Blaine decided it was time for his alter ego to step in. Blaine hadn't been completely lying about his passion of solving crime, he'd just been hiding the same truth he had been for a long time.

After all, he couldn't just tell his best friend he was Maestro, archenemy of the city's greatest evil.

Blaine figured Kurt would understand if he did tell, but the risk was too great. He trusted Kurt with his life, but telling him something of such importance would be putting his life in danger. Blaine wouldn't be able to live with himself if he caused Kurt any kind of harm. Blaine had always put on a happy face for his best friend and his obnoxious boyfriends, but Blaine always had secretly wished it was him Kurt was talking about.

Ever since college, Blaine had been fascinated with the boy he called his best friend. His indescribably perfect hair, stormy eyes, and witty personality. Blaine could barely remember times _before_ Kurt.

It would never work out. Kurt and his eccentric boyfriend collection were too closely meshed at that point. Blaine sighed, retreating to his room. He reached into the recesses of his closet to grab the tux-like uniform reserved for nights like these. The white half-mask covered his eyes, leaving his mouth exposed. Blaine slipped out the window, climbing down the fire escape silently. He cast a glance at Kurt's window, then continued his descent.

By the time Blaine arrived at the scene of the crimes, another police officer was dead. Blaine's archnemesis Silk was standing over a body, head bowed and eyes closed. The fabric of his suit fluttered in the late-night breeze, not making a sound.

"I see I was right in my predictions, _Silk._ "

The villain turned, a vicious smirk dancing on his pale face.

"Well, darling _Maestro. Someone_ has to make sure things stay interesting."

Blaine gestured widely at the carnage around him.

"But _murder?_ And _theft_?"

The smirk faltered on Silk's lips, and Blaine attacked. A fist connected with his enemy's stomach, and he fell back before sliding to his feet. Blaine saw his nemesis preform an elegant flip over his head before landing behind him.

"Shame you never got any decent talents."

In a flash, Silk disappeared, leaping off the sides of buildings and flipping.

"Show off."

With the threat averted for a brief spell, Blaine headed for home.

In the morning, Blaine awoke to the scent of fresh-cooked bacon. He breathed it in deeply as he walked toward the small kitchen in the apartment. Kurt was facing away from Blaine, dressed in his bathrobe. He was in the midst of making pancakes, a talent reserved only for Thursday mornings unless Blaine begged enough. Kurt heard Blaine grab the newspaper on the table and turned slightly.

"Morning, Blaine."

Blaine looked up from the paper to smile at Kurt.

"Morning to you, too. Sleep okay? How's your arm?"

Kurt rubbed his shoulder thoughtfully.

"Seems okay. I don't think you'll need to amputate."

Blaine scoffed.

"Damn. I had my rusty saw sharpened just to cut off your arm."

"Oh, what a shame. Tetanus and potential death will have to wait for my next _death-defying_ incident."

Blaine walked up next to his roommate to snatch a piece of bacon. It was cooked to perfection, the perfect balance of crisp and soft.

"I swear, Kurt. Nobody else is allowed to cook bacon for me. You are a bacon _god._ "

Kurt chuckled.

"It's just bacon, like _every_ Thursday since we've lived together."

Blaine turned Kurt to face him.

"It's perfect bacon, though."

Kurt reddened and turned back to his pancakes.

"I'll have these ready soon."

"Thanks."

Blaine ambled back to the table with his bacon. He picked the newspaper back up, shaking it out and reading the headline.

"Another cop died."

Kurt tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Really? I thought all the action was dying down."

Blaine sighed.

"It's a shame. These guys had families and lives and stuff."

Kurt bowed his head over the pancakes.

"Hey, don't be so upset. There's not much we can do. Besides, pancakes!"

Blaine internally snorted. _If only Kurt knew…_

He was jolted out of thought when Kurt set a plate of pancakes in front of him.

"Eat, Blaine. Stop worrying so much. It'll give you _wrinkles._ "

Blaine smirked.

"As if I wouldn't look hot with wrinkles."

Kurt seemed to redden again.

"You sick? You look really flushed."

Kurt's head whipped up.

"What? No. I'm fine."

Blaine frowned.

"If you're sure."

Kurt sighed.

"I just… didn't sleep that well."

Blaine nodded.

"Okay. Thanks for breakfast, but duty calls. Recording day."

Kurt grimaced with Blaine.

"Good luck, Blaine."

"Bring me lunch?"

Kurt grinned.

"Of course. Now scoot."


End file.
